


A place for my drabbles, part two

by endlessnightlock (Endlessnightlock)



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Earlier stuff in the other document, Everything from March 2021 on is here, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Genderbent Everlark, Haven't made up my mind yet, Humor, I like to keep my stories organized, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Swearing, You’re bound to find it all here, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endlessnightlock/pseuds/endlessnightlock
Summary: Part two of my drabbles because I write a lot of them and don't want them all in a giant omnibus collection on here.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen & Johanna Mason, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 27





	1. Slushies aren’t just for kids, fuck society

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tumblr prompt

Katniss glanced out the window of her car after pulling to a stop and shifting it into park. She didn’t shut the engine off because she wouldn’t be here long. The house in front of her was dark, nestled in shadows between two tall oak trees, but the light from the streetlamp on the corner made it easy to make out Johanna. Her friend sat curled up on the top step of the porch, her shoulder resting against the brick column, knees drawn up under her chin.

She shot a quick text to her boyfriend before getting out of her car like he’d asked her to do- both to let Peeta know she’d found Jo and also so he’d know when she arrived here in case anything happened. 

You couldn’t be too careful with the crowd of assholes Jo was running with. Rich kids with too much money from Mommy and Daddy and way too much time on their hands. Cruel and rotten from the inside out, but rolling in enough drugs to keep Johanna as high as she wanted to be.

Tonight was the first time she’d heard from her friend in a month. When Katniss got the text saying: come get me along with an address at 3 am, she only hesitated a minute before getting in her car.

God, Katniss really hoped this was the last time she had to do this. But what was the alternative- ignoring Jo’s pleas only to find out later that she’s missing, or worse?

Katniss: She’s still here.  
Her boyfriend replied quickly.

Peeta: Does she look alright?  
Katniss peered up at the porch. Jo’s eyes looked like they were open, and she seemed awake, so that was promising.

Katniss: I think so.  
Peeta: Good. Please be careful.  
Katniss: I will. I think the party is over, though- she’s the only one out here. I’ll let you know when we get around the block.  
Peeta: I wish I were with you.  
She smiled at his over-protectiveness.

Katniss: We’ll be fine. Love you.  
Peeta: Love you too.  
Katniss climbed out of the car, shutting the door quietly behind her. She walked around the front end and leaned against the side instead of walking up to the house. She’d rather keep her distance. “You alright?” she called out.

Instead of answering, Jo stood to her feet. She was mostly steady as she walked down the steps and the sidewalk, which was a load off of Katniss’s mind. She’d rather not have to take her to the Emergency Room like last time.

When Jo reached her side, Katniss could see that other than makeup smudged around her eyes and her pale face, Jo seemed like herself. Mostly sober and awake. 

“Yeah. I’m fine,” she answered. If Katniss hadn’t known her friend so well, she might have believed the lie Jo was telling herself.

“Where to?” Katniss asked once both girls were in the car again. “My roommate is at work tonight, so you can come home with me.” 

Jo slunched in her seat, leaning her head against the headrest and closing her eyes. “Can we go to Seven-Eleven first? I need a cherry slushie.”

Katniss laughed as she pulled away from the curb. She’d wait till they got to the convenience store to text Peeta back. He wouldn’t worry so long as she didn’t wait too long to reply. 

“Really,” she asked, “what are we- ten again?”

Jo scoffed at her. “Slushies aren’t just for kids. Fuck society.”

Katniss came to a stop at the end of the street and flicked on her turn signal. “That’s true, I guess,” she agreed as they left the neighborhood behind.

“Thanks for getting me,” Jo said quietly.

Katniss glanced over at her friend. “It’s fine. I told you to call if you need me. You owe me one, maybe two by now.” When they got to the convenience store, she pulled into the parking lot and shut the car off before shooting Peeta a quick text.

“It’s more than that,” Jo mumbled.

Katniss waited for her friend to go on, breath-bated. Was this the moment Jo acknowledged what a mess she’d made of things lately? A little honesty would be refreshing.

But no, apparently not. 

“I’m going to owe you for a slushie too. I’m broke, so you’re buying,” Jo said.

Katniss scowled at the back of her head as she tugged open the passenger side door and climbed out.


	2. “That’s my shirt. So is that..wait?” :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sapphic Everlark featuring fem! Peeta

Katniss hums to herself as she snips the ends of the bouquet of flowers- the ones she picked up on the walk home from work. She places each stem in the leftover wallpaper and mod podge decorated coffee can, one of her girlfriend Peeta’s more hair-brained ideas for craft night at their apartment with their friends Finnick and Annie, arranging each blossom to her liking. Katniss isn’t the resident decorator- that job title goes to Peeta. She has a much better eye for judging how things look. 

Katniss is simply in a good mood tonight and is rolling with it. 

Today Haymitch, her manager at _The_ _Hob_ , pulled her aside at the end of her shift to let her know that she’s officially the top candidate for promotion at this location, the flagship restaurant, once the new place opens across town in a few months. 

It will be a great opportunity if she gets the job. Katniss has been sous-chef under Cinna for over three years now. While she’s learned so much under his tutelage than she can say, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of taking over the kitchen herself. The position would mean a big increase in salary and respect, as well.

So yeah, she’s a little excited.

She’s finishing up the flowers when she hears Peeta walk into the kitchen. “What do you have there?” she asks, coming closer.

Katniss glances over her shoulder at her girlfriend, who looks like she just rolled out of bed. Peeta works nights as an EMT, a job that tends to leave her mentally and physically drained, so Katniss makes an effort to stay quiet when she knows she’s sleeping.

“Nothing,” Katniss says, leaning into her for a kiss. 

She’s never been very physically demonstrative, but her girlfriend craves affection and touch so much that Katniss always makes the extra effort for her.

“I missed you today,” Peeta says, lips brushing hers.

Katniss smiles up at her. Peeta isn’t much taller than she is, which she likes. “Well, I’m home now.”

There’s an invitation for more there in her blue eyes. Peeta steps close enough that Katniss can smell the light herb-scented shampoo she uses as her girlfriend’s soft, curvy body (such a contrast to her own flat, boyish frame) presses against her own. They tangle themselves up in each other, lost to everything but themselves for a few minutes.

Katniss is a little breathless when they separate; she rests her forehead against Peeta’s lips as they hold each other, enjoying the feel of just being together. 

Eventually, Katniss opens her eyes to find herself staring down at a surprising amount of cleavage peeking out of the tank top under her girlfriend’s unbuttoned flannel shirt. 

Tits out is not a look Peeta typically goes for. She’s usually too self-conscious of her decidedly full-figured, curvy body- but that look is definitely what she has going on today. There’s no denying how the material strains at the seams, barely containing her breasts. 

Actually, come to think of it, that’s not Peeta’s shirt at all-.

“That’s my shirt!” Katniss says, stepping back. 

“I need to do laundry today- you can’t say you mind. You wear my shirts all the time,” Peeta reminds her.

Katniss shakes her head. “I don’t _mind_ \- I’m stunned, actually. What I want to know is how that,” she points to her girlfriend's breasts, “is even structurally possible? I don’t know how that shirt hasn’t split in two yet, super tits. I mean, you’re like an F cup, and I’m a B.”

Peeta smirks at her. “Last bras I bought were a G, actually.”

Katniss is silent, contemplating the rest of what Peeta’s wearing. “So is that... wait?” She pauses, referring to the flannel shirt worn over the tank that would never button across Peeta’s monster breasts even if world peace were at stake. “That’s my shirt, too.”

“I got cold,” Peeta said, shrugging.

After biting her lip to restrain her wide smile- because Peeta was so cute in her clothes, and Katniss didn’t for a minute believe there wasn’t anything else clean to wear, _come_ _on-_ she stepped into her space again, wrapping her arms around her middle. 

She loved her so much- she was so lucky to have found her. 

“I missed you too today, you know?” Katniss whispered.

“Yeah?” Peeta asked.

Katniss nodded. “And I have great news that I absolutely _cannot_ wait to share with you. Why don’t we go out tonight and celebrate?”

“That Thai place?”

“That sounds perfect.”


	3. “Seeing you is my motivation to get myself out of bed every morning"

“Ugh, it’s so _early_ ,” Katniss complained, slumping her way down the front steps of her house to meet her boyfriend, who was waiting for her in the driveway with his car running. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Peeta said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

Katniss didn’t feel even the least bit _sunshiny_ today. 

“Remind me why we decided to do this again?” she asked around a face-splitting yawn. Katniss wasn’t a morning person, but when her boyfriend suggested going out for breakfast once he got off the night shift at his job and before her first class of the day, she’d quickly agreed. But that agreement was made last night when she was wide awake, not at 5:30 in the morning when she could barely keep her eyelids from slipping closed.

Peeta pulled the passenger side door open for her and waited for her to climb in. “Why? Because we’re both busy. And you love me enough to get up before the sun, just so we can spend an hour together today,” he said.

“You make it sound so romantic,” Katniss said as she put on her seatbelt. 

If she were honest, it was kind of romantic, at least. Sacrificing sleep for love or something- not that she would ever admit to that.

“It is,” Peeta reiterated once he was in the driver’s seat. “Seeing you was my motivation for getting out of bed this morning. I might have called off last night, otherwise.”

Katniss snorted, but once he’d backed the car out onto the street and began heading towards the 24-hour diner on the other side of town, she reached across the console and took Peeta’s hand, threading their fingers together.

She supposed getting up this early was alright, at least once in a while.


	4. "I like it when you talk a lot" aka the Cookie Drabble

When Peeta, absolutely the nicest boy she’d met since starting kindergarten at Alma Coin Elementary, casually passed her half of his large M&M oatmeal cookie for the third time that week, right in the middle of a story he was telling, Katniss knew she was a goner.

The deal was sealed. Katniss knew right then and there what her future would hold- she was going to marry him.

Peeta was her _favorite_ friend. 

Of course, only once they were grown up because her mommy and daddy would miss her too much if she left home now.

And who would Prim sleep with if Katniss left? Her sister was only two and still needed her.

But someday.

Peeta was so nice, and he was never too busy to smile at her, even when he was off playing a game of kickball with the other boys at recess. He didn’t mind the way his friends teased him about her. 

Peeta never seemed to give any thought to sharing all the good things packed in his lunchbox, either. He just did it, even if it meant she had more to eat than him. 

“My mom was so mad at Rye when she found the mess he’d made in the storeroom,” Peeta was telling a story at the same time the decision was being made.

Peeta told the _best_ stories.

“She sent him to bed without no supper that night, ” he went on. “He was so hungry, and I felt so bad I snuck him some of the leftover bread from the day and some water. And then Rye said he must be in jail because, you know what they say about jail, that all they get to eat is bread and water? I mean, I’m sure that’s not all they get. So anyway-”

Katniss kept her eyes on her lap, listening to Peeta finish his first story before launching into another funny one about his dumb older brothers.

Well, his brothers weren’t really dumb, she didn’t think. It just sounded like they did a lot of stupid things they got into trouble for ‘cause they mostly got caught at them.

“I’m sorry,” Peeta said, interrupting his own tale like he’d finally remembered there was something he was supposed to do. “Mom says I talk everyone’s ears off. Says I should let others get a word in edgewise sometimes.”

Katniss glanced over at him, her eyes wide. “No! I like it when you talk a lot. I never know what to say anyway. So you keep on talking while I eat my half of the cookie, okay?”

“Oh, okay-”

Peeta hesitated a minute like he wasn't sure, but when Katniss took a big enough bite of oatmeal M&M cookie that she wouldn’t be able to talk around it anyway and nodded at him, he began his tale again. ”Like I was saying-”


	5. "I'm in love with you, and it's driving me crazy"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter rated M for sexual content

“I’m in love with you, and it’s driving me crazy!”

Katniss sat silently, watching her usually cool as a cucumber co-worker struggle to contain his anger. 

Peeta’s face was so red, even the tips of his ears were showing the strain. She wouldn’t be surprised if his light blond hair started turning pink at the roots; there was so much frustration cooking beneath the surface.

Katniss was in shock; she had no idea why he was reacting like this. Peeta wasn’t mad because of what she told him, was he? That was crazy. “Are you alright?” Katniss asked, getting up from her chair and moving to stand next to his desk. 

It was late, and they were the only ones left in the office; everyone else had already left for the night. It wasn’t the first time they'd stayed late to work on a project together. They got along great- Peeta’s company was never anything less than enjoyable. Katniss liked him a lot. 

Things were fine up until, as they were going over a shared finance report on their respective laptops, Peeta casually asked Katniss about her plans for the weekend. 

Not like  _ he _ was asking her out; that would be crazy because the two of them were working friends.  They’d gone to happy hour with their other co-workers a few times, sure, not together. Although they usually stayed longer than the others to talk. That was the extent of their relationship outside the office.  He was a nice guy, and Katniss could undoubtedly do a lot worse than Peeta; in fact, she typically did worse.

But since she didn’t feel the need to fib about things with him, she admitted that her ex-boyfriend, who’d cheated on her both the first and second time they’d broken up, had asked to see her again. And because Katniss was an idiot, she’d agreed to meet Marvel for drinks and possibly more- simply because she was so damn tired of being alone lately.  At least she knew what to expect with her ex- nothing but sex. 

She didn’t even like Marvel anymore as a person. He used way too much hair gel.

“No,  _ actually _ , I’m not alright,” Peeta replied, his tone nasty enough that his words were like a slap across the face.  He wouldn’t look at her. Instead, he swiped the water bottle off his desk, practically ripped the cap off, and proceeded to chug its contents while she stood gaping at him. Katniss knew if the two of them had been prehistoric hunters in a bygone era, Peeta could have just as easily killed a mastodon with his bare hands; he seemed so angry. 

She watched Peeta's throat bob up and down as he swallowed the water. The heat traveling up her neck and blooming on her face was alarming.

Katniss wasn’t sure if she was just angry. 

Obviously, Peeta disapproved of her having a drunken hook-up with her ex; how  _ dare _ he- it was none of his business! Of course, she was pissed off at him, and why shouldn’t she be?

Or was there something else she was feeling as well, something more dangerous like awakening desire? As much as it bothered Katniss to admit it to herself, the same heat was settling between her legs as well. 

“I don’t understand-” Katniss said, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at Peeta. Discretely, she squeezed her thighs together, trying to get her body to behave. She was even more pissed at him than turned on, she realized. The tension in the room was so thick there was no way things would end well if they kept this up. They’d either scream until they were hoarse or wind up horizontal on his desk. 

Neither option with Peeta was smart. They had to work together, for fuck’s sake.

“I don’t know why you’d do something so stupid, Katniss. God! You’re better than some sleazy hook-up with your ex.” he told her, his foot tapping a staccato rhythm on the hardwood floor of his office. “I’m sorry if that’s hard to hear or whatever, but it’s the truth.”

Katniss jerked her head back like he’d slapped her across the face. 

So much for keeping her cool- how dare Peeta call her or her choices sleazy? Fuck him. 

“You arrogant asshole! What right do you have to tell me anything about the way I live my life? I have never once given any indication that I’ll allow you to speak that way to me-” 

Katniss was moving into Peeta’s space, crowding him in between his desk and the corner wall behind him. The closer she got, the slower his manic foot-tapping got until it stopped when she was inches away from him. 

Then he bounded out of his chair, leaping to his feet in front of her.

So much for either one of them keeping their cool.

“It’s not you, alright?” Peeta seethed. “It’s me- I’m in love with you, and it’s driving me crazy! I can’t stand to watch you waste another second of your life on that worthless asshole after the way he treated you. You’re better than that! Even if you don’t want me, you shouldn’t do that to yourself. Any guy would be lucky to-”

“You what?”

“I said any guy would be lucky to-”

“Not that,” Katniss said, staring at his lips. Her pulse was still thrumming like mad, her adrenaline running so high she could’ve run up and down the thirty-odd flights of stairs in the building effortlessly. It was a heady, powerful sensation. “The other thing.”

Peeta frowned. “You know that I think Marvel’s an asshole. That isn’t new information.”

Katniss grabbed the lapels of Peeta’s shirt to jerk him closer. “You just told me you’re in love with me, you idiot.”

“I did?”

“You did. So, are you?”

Peeta seemed to make a snap decision before his eyes because his features smoothed out, and he nodded briskly. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Oh,” she answered.

They were kissing- deep, hard, wet kissing, which soon progressed to tearing at each other’s clothes until they were on the precipice of something brand new.

Peeta’s pants lay pooled around his ankles. Katniss’s skirt was around her waist with her sweater pushed up over her breasts which she’d hastily rid of her bra because fuck, she wanted him to see her. 

When Peeta spread her legs apart and pushed inside her until they were flush and trembling with relief and pleasure, Katniss whimpered his name.

“Better than old, what’s his name?” he panted in answer.

“Everything about this is better,” she said against his lips. “You’re better. Now please, don’t make me wait, Peeta.”

  
  
  
  



	6. “Your singing is the only thing that can get me to sleep.”

“Katniss,” Prim wakes me curling her skinny little girl’s arms around my waist. It’s cool in here tonight, but the bed is warmer now that she’s in it with me. “I had a bad dream. Will you sing for me?” She asks, “It’s the only thing that can get me to sleep.”

“What do you want to hear? The Meadow Song?”

“Yes, please.” She requests.

My throat is rough from sleep and disuse, but Prim doesn’t mind the imperfection of my song, and soon her breathing evens out, and sleep catches up with her again.

* * *

Our bedroom is cold because of the open window. Peeta’s head is hot and sweaty, and his blond curls are limp on his brow. He’s feverish, sick- and though it is nothing like the time we were in a cave and I was afraid he was going to die, I don’t like it.

“Katniss,” he mumbles around his thick, dry tongue, “sing for me? It’ll help me sleep.”

It’s something Peeta asks for regularly, more often than Prim would. Sometimes I defer, but tonight I don’t.

“Of course- what would you like to hear?”

“Anything you like. Anything at all.”

So I sing a tune my father used to do about a miner and his unfaithful lover, a mournful song because I’m feeling low. Peeta doesn’t notice the words, though, and soon falls into a restless sleep.

* * *

“Momma,” Briar whispers from the doorway of our bedroom, drawing my attention from the baby at my breast.

Her daddy rolls over at the sound of her voice.

“Come on in, baby,” Peeta says, sitting up on the mattress. The room is cool, but the bed is warm. “Get lonely down there?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she says, climbing into his stretched-out arms. Briar settles into her spot between Peeta and me and puts her hand on Ash’s head- her way of greeting her brother when he nurses. “I couldn’t sleep. I need Momma to sing me a song.”

I never tell her no. I sing so much these days that my voice is always limber and ready.

“What would you like to hear?” I ask Briar as she and Peeta stretch out on the bed beside me.

“The song about the fat bear and his honeycomb.”

I sing a silly song about a sleepy bear and a conniving rabbit because it is my daughter’s favorite, and my family is asleep once more.


	7. "Will you marry me?"

At the unlatching of the door, my eyes fly open, and I am immediately aware of two things: it is morning, and Lord Peeta is still in my room, as evidenced by the substantial weight and light snore coming from the other side of the bed.

“Oh, I am sorry,” the maid assigned for my stay at my cousin’s home because my faithful Madge could not make the journey due to a sister’s illness exclaims. 

Delly is young and seems relatively inexperienced in matters of finding unmarried ladies in bed with known rakes. I’m afraid I’ve given her a great surprise, for she twitters like a little bird in the doorway of the room, searching for the words to say. “I didn’t mean to disturb her ladyship.”

“Maybe you should return later, Delly,” I manage to get out as I pull the bedsheets and coverlet up to cover both Peeta’s and my naked bodies. Much as I might wish, there aren’t nearly enough to hide my transgressions from the maid’s eyes.

“Yes, your ladyship. Certainly.”

“One more thing,” I ask because I’m beginning to fret a great deal. What has my impetuous decision from last night cost me? 

“Is the rest of the household up yet?”

Delly bites her lip. I have the distinct feeling she does not want to answer because she knows I will not like the truth.

I force myself to smile at her.

“Some are up, yes, your ladyship,” Delly says. “I believe both your mother and Lady Annie have had their trays, and most of the gentlemen are having breakfast as well.”

So there is very little chance of Peeta leaving now without getting caught.

I sigh. “Thank you, Delly. You may return in a half-hour to assist me.”

I catch Delly’s smothered giggles carrying into my room while she tugs the heavy mahogany door shut upon her exit.

Irritation sweeps through me. If Delly knows I had a man in my bed last night, the entire household will be aware of my indiscretions in half an hour, tops; they are not my servants, so they are in no way loyal to me. I shall not be able to keep this a secret, no matter how necessary it will be.

And of course, my mother and father are here for this house party as well. Drat.

“Bollocks!” I swear once the door’s shut. 

A lady should not say such things, but on a morning like this, where I’ve been found in a situation that will significantly compromise my character, a small slip of the tongue seems warranted. 

“Peeta, wake up!” I say to my companion, shoving his heavy arm in frustration. I choose to ignore the little zing that darts up my hand at the contact.

“Hmm, what is it darling,” Peeta murmurs, eyes still shut like he can’t be bothered to open them. 

“It’s morning,  _ darling _ ,” I say, “and we’re in a spot of trouble.”

Sarcasm is more than evident in my words, but it doesn’t seem to phase him. Instead, Peeta lazily opens his eyes and peers up at me, the blue startling against the white sheets. 

I force myself not to let my eyes wander down the expanse of naked skin peeking out of the covers, just a taste of what lies beneath. 

My body aches this morning in a thorough, satisfying way. I’d no idea being made love to would be so exquisite; the experience had not been a painful one as I’d heard the rumors say losing one’s maidenhead could be. 

It was beautiful.

Beautiful? How could I describe anything involving Lord Peeta as beautiful? I despise him.

Heat creeps up my chest and blossoms through my neck and up to my face while Peeta looks over me contentedly, like a cat who’s just given a bowl of cream. 

Well, I suppose he is not so bad, I decide. He has at least one redeeming quality, it seems. 

Despite my lack of experience in such matters, Peeta was quite a generous lover. Very skillful and gentle. So long as he keeps his mouth shut, I feel he and I could get along splendidly.

Peeta sits up finally, stretching his legs beneath the covers and matching my position on the mattress. I look away when the blanket falls around his hips, leaving his well-formed upper half uncovered. 

I’m afraid I will be quite distracted with thoughts of last night if I keep my eyes on him. 

“I was supposed to go before morning, wasn’t I?” Peeta asks quietly. 

“Yes,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

Peeta ruffles his hair. “Have we been discovered?” 

This time I nod in the affirmative. Such an indescribable mix of emotions is warring in my chest that I cannot speak. I’m finding it quite hard to breathe as the enormity of what I have done settles over me. 

Peeta lets out a great sigh, and I glance his way again. 

“I suppose we’ll have to marry then,” he says, turning towards me.

“What?” 

Is her serious? He despises me.

“You hate me,” I say.

Peeta gets a strange look on his face. “I don’t hate you even a little, Katniss. Quite the opposite. But the question is- do you think so little of me, do you hate me?” he laughs at himself. “Wait, perhaps I don’t want you to answer that; one way or the other, I think we shall have to marry, or society will be through with us.”

“Peeta.”

“I prefer to pretend that you like me a little bit longer, I think.”

I’m surprised by his admissions, so much so that I find myself answering him truthfully. “As much as I thought I disliked you greatly, I now realize that’s not true. You infuriate me, and I don’t agree with many of the things you do, but I don’t hate you either. I enjoy discussing things with you; I enjoy laughing with you,” because last night there had been laughter as well as passion, “and I find that I quite like your company.”

“Do you think you could marry me then?” Peeta asks, tone utterly devoid of the self-preservation worn like a cloak around me for years. 

I realized the man in bed with me last night and here, right now, was the real Peeta, not the snarling, quarrelsome version of him I was mostly used to encountering.

I nod. “I think that I could. We will fight as cats and dogs do, but we can figure that out later.”

“Will you marry me, then, lady Katniss?”

“Yes,” I say. 

I burst out laughing when Peeta lunges across the bed at me. He rolls us over until I am flat on my back, and he’s hovering over me, smiling in a way that makes my heart hurt a little- but not with pain- with happiness.

Oddly enough, this feels right.

“I will marry you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you're feeling it. Thanks for reading.


End file.
